


Centuries Past, The North Remembers

by BoleynQueen



Series: Sansa Black [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Female Regulus, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Regulus Black is Sansa Stark, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoleynQueen/pseuds/BoleynQueen
Summary: “So how did you mess up with Sansa?” Sirius asked. Death wished he could bite the annoying wizard.“Due to special circumstances of her past life, she and many others were given the chance to request for how they wanted their next life to go.”Yes, that’s a good understatement for giving rewards towards those who fought during the long winter. The Old Gods had felt pity towards the few that had outlasted the White Walkers and those who had died in their attempts. Sansa had been one of many who died. So they had given each one thing they wished for in their next life. The Targaryen girl wished to be queen in her next life, and so she was born Elizabeth Tudor, whom they had moved heaven and earth to make the Virgin Queen, bringer of the golden era.Sirius looked as if he wanted to ask why the special treatment, so he quickly spoke on so that the boy wouldn’t have the chance.“She and her family, at the place of asking for one thing each, shared two wishes that they agreed on. One was that they will all be together in their next life and the other was that they will remember their past one.”
Relationships: Jon Snow & Arya Stark & Bran Stark & Rickon Stark & Robb Stark & Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Regulus Black & Sirius Black
Series: Sansa Black [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707103
Comments: 31
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this might not be my best work! I’ve been facing writer’s block on another story and I thought if I could just start getting this one out it might help so that I can concentrate on finishing the other. Like I said this isn’t my best work, as I started writing it at four am and didn’t stop until 8 am. So I’m about to drop. If you like it or think I should continue, leave a kudos or comment! Thank you, have a good quarantined read!

It all started because Sirius was late for Quidditch practice. He was sure James was going to have his head for, and he quotes this directly from the source, undermining his captaincy. Sirius has demanded how could his everyday tardiness reflect on his best friend's leadership skills before reviewing his own words, and yeah, okay, he could see how that could diminish James in the eyes of the rest of the team. If they see him letting Sirius get away with shit, then they will attempt to do the same.

Shit. He had even promised to be on time this time. It had just been so early! He couldn’t wake up even if he had wanted to!

His thoughts of quidditch, angry best friends and promises broken came to an abrupt stop. His head turned unwillingly to the forest. Pulled in by how tempting the Forbidden Forest looked all of a sudden, he walked dazed towards it. The trees seemed to edge away from him, to make a clear path for him to follow. And follow, he did. Deep into the forest he went, no worries of centaurs and man eating giant spiders plaguing his thoughts.

Later on, he will wonder why nobody had stopped him. If they had even seen him walk into the forest in full daylight, not even attempting to hide the fact that he walked straight into the forbidden.

~#~

Death stalked, caged in the skin of a fox, back and forth, gnashing his teeth together, annoyed that once more, he is forced into the body of one so much weaker than him. There was no other choice, he knows. Humans can not bear to see Death in all its glory. So he is forced to communicate with them through possession of lesser beings. He could not even possess a human because the mortals then get weepy when he leaves a corpse behind.

Sirius Black, his charge’s brother, arrives, walking calmly towards the orange fox. It wouldn’t last.

He was correct as Sirius woke up, jerky head turns, loud swears and all that comes with realizing you’re not where you were supposed to be and you have no idea how you came to be where you are.

Death waited for him to regain his bearings and when Sirius turned to leave, he gave his presence away.

“Do not leave, Sirius Black,” he commanded in a deep serious voice that did not belong to a fox. Sirius startled and his eyes widened into tennis balls as the fox continued to speak. “I did not go through all the trouble of bringing you here just for you to leave straight away.”

“You’re talking!” Sirius exclaimed. Well, that’s quite obvious. Not the smartest tool in the shed, was he. “You’re a fox!”

“Yes,” Death quickly got cut off before he could elaborate.

“And you kidnapped me!” He accused.

“Not quite. I intend to return you after a little chat,” he assured the boy, bored already of this conversation. Why do humans always have to be like this? They always react the same, Death thought uncharitably. Oh my god, an animal’s talking! Big deal, there are actual dragons in the world and they are scared of talking animals.

“You are? Thank Merlin! I thought for sure you were leading me to your family of evil foxes to make me your next meal. The meat on my body keeping your family full for the next month.” He said with a large grin.

“No. No murder,” unfortunately, he replied drily. “Just here to warn you of a great calamity soon to come to someone close to you.”

“What? Is something going to happen to James? Remus? Is it Death Eaters?” The boy spoke worriedly.

“A great calamity will befall your sister, Sansa.”

Immediately, the handsome boy’s posture changed from frantic to defensive. Death’s eyebrow raised in curiosity but it was terribly ineffective as a fox.

“Sorry to break it to you but Sansa and I don’t speak. You’ll have to go to one of our cousins or our horrid bitch of a mother if you want to warn someone of her great calamity,” he spoke the last words sarcastically. Sirius turned to leave and Death sighed. Humans can be so selfishly human at times.

“Well, I cannot go to them as you are the one closest to her here at Hogwarts.” The boy continued walking out of the clearing. Death raised his voice. “Due to an... error, Sansa is at the moment susceptible to madness and eventually, suicide.”

Sirius stopped in his tracks.

“What?” His voice cracked. “You’re lying! Sansa is fine.” He hissed.

Death knows that humans know nothing of what is beyond their little bubble which bursts when they die and they then learn all the gossip of what happens down below, the affairs of the gods, and what happens after they die so he is lenient in the face of such disrespect from the young wizard.

He continues speaking as if no interruption happened.

“Sansa Black is in a very vulnerable mental space right now due to an error, on our part, of how we placed her soul into this body.”

He paused as Sirius seemed already ready to burst with questions.

“When humans die, their souls are wiped clean of memories of their lives. They forget crimes they committed, people they loved and who they were. They get a fresh start as they are then placed into a newborn babe.”

“Wait! Back up! Reincarnation is real?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

“Yes,” the grave voice resonated out, bored. 

“So how did you mess up with Sansa?” Death wished he could bite the annoying wizard.

“Due to special circumstances of her past life, she and many others were given the chance to request for how they wanted their next life to go.” Yes, that’s a good understatement for giving rewards towards those who fought during the long winter. The Old Gods had felt pity towards the few that had outlasted the White Walkers and those who had died in their attempts. Sansa had been one of many who died. So they had given each one thing they wished for in their next life. The Targaryen girl wished to be queen in her next life, and so she was born Elizabeth Tudor, whom they had moved heaven and earth to make the Virgin Queen, bringer of the golden era.

Sirius looked as if he wanted to ask why the special treatment, so he quickly spoke on so that the boy wouldn’t have the chance.

“She and her family, at the place of asking for one thing each, shared two wishes that they agreed on. One was that they will all be together in their next life and the other was that they will remember their past one. After much deliberation, we agreed. How to explain what we did to them… We put a thick blanket to hide the memories in their minds and not erase them, and when they reunite, it will come off.” There, that’s understandable for the human brain.

Sirius’ jaw was hanging open. It was quite comical really. Then his eyes narrowed in defiance as he demanded, “What does that have to do with me? You still haven’t told me how this will make my sister go loony!”

“If you’d just let me finish, when I was placing the blankets on their memories, Sansa was last. Unfortunately, that meant I was quite tired,” he admitted reluctantly. “Her blanket was quite thin. For the past few months, it’s been breaking slowly at the seems. Her memories are peaking through.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Sirius said carelessly. “Sansa is getting what she wanted.”

“It’s happening too early. They’re supposed to come all at once! Like this,” Death snapped his fingers. 

When Sirius continued to look clueless to why that matters, Death sat down on his furry hind legs.

“Right now, she is feeling all the pain and loss she’s gone through in her last lifetime. Imagine living a lifetime, going through the motions of heartbreak, death of people close to you and all the pain comes with living. It happens and you mourn and move on. With no memory of why she is feeling this way, she cannot mourn or move on. She simply feels longing for things long dead that she doesn’t remember. The world doesn’t remember. When the souls aren’t cleansed properly, it often leads to miserable people who wallow in bottles, are depressed or end up in the loony bin. 80% of cases of these particular souls kill themselves.”

Sirius paled at that.

“Why did you let her remember?” He snapped.

“There was a collective decision made,” Death replied stiffly. “That since she will be together with family, she won’t be so alone as to, well-” he faltered. “We told them the risk and they wished for this anyways.”

“So what do you want?” He demanded. “What do you want from me to help my sister? Haven’t you done enough?”

“We wish for you to simply keep an eye on her in case she resorts to something drastic.”

Sirius’ fists clenched. Death continued.

“In the meantime, we are going to speed up their reunion. It was meant to happen in a couple of years but this means that it will need to be more urgent.”

“Who of her old family is she reuniting with?” Sirius questioned.

“Her siblings, from the eldest to the youngest. There are four of them. And a cousin who has been raised alongside them.”

“Tell me about Sansa Stark,” the boy demanded.

“I’m afraid that we do not speak of past lives with mortals,” Death replied unapologetically.

“Right, and you’re doing such a good job at that,” Sirius drawled out.

Death bent his adorable whiskered face to the side. Fair.

“Fine. Sansa Stark had been a beautiful and stupid little noble girl whose family got destroyed and split up when she was thirteen. She then went through a series of trials that would make the strongest of men falter and came out quite - slytherin. Then Winter came and she died at eighteen.” Death told him the vague overview of Sansa Stark’s life bluntly.

Sirius' face went grave at hearing that his little sister died so young.

“So I just make sure she doesn’t, you know… until she is with her other siblings,” his lips pursed.

“Yes,” the fox grinned revealing sharp teeth. “And then you can go back to pretending she doesn’t exist.”

The fox slumped dead. Death left as he had given his message and he now had to help put a family back together. Not his usual department. Let it never be said though that he doesn’t fix his mistakes.

Sirius was left alone with his turbulent thoughts and a fox’s corpse in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

~#~

Sansa looked tired and there were dark bags under her eyes. Her face was even more pale than it usually was in comparison to her hair which was bunched messily in a ponytail. Sirius wondered if the red of her hair was inherited from her past life. 

When she was born, it caused quite a scandal. His father had roared that his mother had slept with a Weasley. Only after a blood test did Orion Black believe that was his daughter. Maybe the fox, or whatever it really was, had pushed for the Starks to retain their names as well. After all, what Black isn’t named after a star? Other than Narcissa, of course. But even then, that was more Black than Sansa.

James elbowed him in the gut making him spill his pumpkin juice down his chin.

“What was that for?” He snapped.

“You haven’t been paying attention, have you?” Remus said softly, giving him disappointed eyes that made him shift in his seat guiltily. “James was just telling us his ideas of where to bring Lily on a Hogsmead date.”

He made sure to look interested and ooh and awe at the right times as James went into a soliloquy of Lily’s perfection and how she deserves to be given the best date to end all dates so that she considers marrying him in two years time.

Then, Sansa got up to leave the great hall and he stood up abruptly to follow her, interrupting James’ ‘perfect spot to kiss Lily for the first time’ explanation. He rushed after his estranged sibling to the confusion of his friends.

“Sansa! Sansa!” He called after her as he jogged. “Wait up!”

She paused and turned towards him. A shadow crosses her face before it smooths out, inscrutable to strangers. Not to him. Her big blue eyes gave her away showcasing the annoyance she felt.

“What is it Sirius?” She said, voice tight and controlled.

“Just wanted to check in on my baby sister! See how she’s doing!” He said with a grin.

“Well, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” She turned to leave but he placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

“You sure? You’re looking a little pale,” he mused. “Exams getting to you?”

“What’s the game here Sirius?” She demanded, frowning in suspicion. 

He reminded himself that just because the Potters were more his family than the Blacks ever could be doesn’t mean he wants Sansa to die. They hadn’t talked for real in ages so Sirius is really making her suspicious. “What do you want?”

“Can’t a brother worry for his little sister when she’s a bit under the weather?” He raised his arms in a surrender pose.

She really wasn’t looking good, he could see from much closer. Her face was ghostly pale but her eyes were puffy red like she had cried all night.

“As I’ve already told you,” she snapped, tearing her arm out of his loose hold. “I’m fine.”

Attempt 1: Complete utter failure.

~#~

At night, every night, he watches the Marauders Map and vigilantly watches over his sister. Soon he is as pale and sickly looking as she is and his friends exchange worried glances but it pays off. Almost every night, she roams the castle, never caught by prefects and then returns to Slytherin dorms. No secret meeting, or midnight snacks in the kitchen, just wandering on the grounds.

James, Remus and Peter sit him down for an intervention. 

“You need to stop stalking your sister, mate!” James exclaims, subtle as ever.

“That’s not what I’m doing! I’m not…” he falters before slumping into his seat. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes!” He replied emphatically with Peter nodding nervously behind James.

“There have been some weird rumours going around because of it,” Remus offered.

“Tell me every one of them,” Sirius answered with a large rakish grin to the delight of James who laughed at his friend’s indecency.

By the end of the night, Sirius has learned the most vile rumours he’s ever heard about him with his sister involved. His sister of all people!

By the end of the night, Sirius also has recruited three new allies to the Sansa needs our help squad. They weren’t doing it for her, a Slytherin but for their brother and best friend, they would keep an eye on her.

~#~

“Leave her alone, Black!” Barty Crouch Jr. attempted to flex menacingly but only ended up looking like an overgrown ferret. “Or I’ll curse you with boiles! Sansa doesn’t want anything to do with you lions!”

He stood between them, a twisted version of Prince Charming protecting a vulnerable princess. Except this princess didn’t need his protection, she needed to be protected from him. He knew exactly what type of crowd Crouch Jr. ran with and he didn’t want his sister involved with them. She’s always been impressionable.

His sister had her back to him as she sat in her seat in the potions classroom. He had just wanted to check in with her before she went to class. Even though every time he does this, her eyes narrow in suspicion and she tries to avoid him with more fervour.

James and Remus backed him up, one hand on their wands, making it quite clear that if he followed through with his threat, it wouldn’t end well for him.

“My sister,” Sirius stressed, “can speak for herself, thank you very much.”

He shoved his way past Crouch Jr. to Sansa and laid his hand on her shoulder to ask her if they can talk privately but she shoved his arm violently away as if his touch burned her and jumped out of her seat.

“Don’t touch me!” She yelled, everyone in the classroom watched the scene as she moved, eyes wild, not seeing him at all.

“Bloody hell!” Someone exclaims. He’s not sure who, it might be James but honestly he’s a bit too busy right now to care. She was showing more emotion in this moment than she has in the last five years she’s been at Hogwarts.

“Sansa, it’s me! Sirius!” He tries to get closer to her but she flinches away. And he knows she can’t see him. She isn’t flinching away from him but from whatever she was hallucinating. This was different. This was close to madness.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He tells her as he holds her shoulders to stop her from squirming away.

“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to ever trust lions again,” she hisses, teeth bared.

Her face slackens, her eyes lose their venom and he can see the confusion fill them. Sansa notices the quiet classroom’s many eyes on her for the first time and flushing red, she runs out of the class.

~#~

“So she was like ‘do you think I’ll ever put my trust in lions again!’” Sirius mimicked his sister’s voice. “She wasn’t herself at all! Sansa is literally a puppet, no emotions or opinions that aren’t what mommy dearest wants! She doesn’t make scenes!”

The Fox, this time Bird, looked at him pensively. He shivered, it was rather unnerving to see animals that aren’t adorable like dogs, cats and stags show such human expressions.

“Well, that does sound like something Sansa Stark might say-”

“My friends thought it was just her time of the month and she was pissed to be touched by a blood traitor!” 

“Yes, well I could see why she would not want to be touched by you. You don’t smell very good,” the Bird continued speaking even as Sirius’ face turned into a tomato. “In her last life, there was a noble house called the Lannister’s who held the sigil of a lion. The Lannister’s brought great harm upon the Stark family. I fear that not knowing who they are or what they had done but knowing that she hated the lions, it confused her into associating Gryffindors with Lannisters.”

Sirius looked down and bit his lip.

“So it’s getting worse?”

“Not necessarily, it just means that she has gone beyond nightmares and gut feelings to outright mixing her two lives together. We’ve always known she’d reach this stage but we didn’t think it’d happen so very quickly.” The Bird sighed. 

“It’s gotten past the stage of just checking in on her, I need to do more,” Sirius insisted, a dark look in his eye.

“You’re right, we need someone to support her until the Starks are reunited. But she doesn’t trust you, I’m thinking of bringing in Narcissa Black in the summer as Sansa is more likely to trust her over you.” The Bird mused.

“No!” Sirius exclaimed. “Sansa is my sister, Narcissa might even tell her fiancé who could tell you-know-who!” Sansa might become a target for that man’s madness. Merlin saggy tits knows that she has enough already to worry about.

“Then gain her trust by the end of the year. If not, it’s Narcissa’s turn.” He said firmly.

Sirius nodded mutinously. 

“Fox, what did the Lannisters do to my sister’s other family?” He hastily added. “Just so I could look for signs that she’s remembering things about them, or well, anything from Westeros, you called it?” Apparently it was a long forgotten name for Europe back in the Middle Ages, that’s what the Bird said, about the land his sister hailed from.

The Bird looked at him, scrutinizing him deeply, and gave chilling proclamations.

“Joffrey Lannister, Sansa’s fiance at one point, had her father executed. Jaime Lannister pushed her little brother out of a tower leaving his legs useless. Tywin Lannister had her mother and older brother murdered at a wedding. Cersei Lannister kept your sister hostage for years where she was beaten and humiliated daily. Need I go on? I have more.” The Bird said, somehow managing to give a nasty grin while sounding as bored as they come.

Sirius shook his head wordlessly. His fists were shaking and he wanted nothing more than to curse these Lannister bastards with the cruciatus curse for beating his sister.

~#~

“Sirius, may I speak to you?” His sister asked between gritted teeth. “Privately?”

Will wonders ever cease? He’s been badgering her the same way he used to do so as a child to convince her to follow him on adventures, now he did so just to force his way back into her life. He feared it wasn’t working, this strategy but that was obviously foolish of him because it hadn’t failed him yet. And it wasn’t failing him now.

He shared a glance with the Marauders, Peter frowning nervously at the floor, not meeting his eyes, James shaking his head no, and Remus' obvious reluctance to let him go off with her alone and Sirius turned towards her and quipped to his sister, “After you!”

The three of them had tired of trying to befriend Sansa, not knowing why they were doing so, only knowing that Sirius was obsessively worried about her and she wanted nothing to do with him or any of them. Which she’s made extremely clear, the potions incident came to mind. James privately thought Sirius was trying to stop her from becoming a Death Eater. Either way, she didn’t want their help.

Sansa led him to an empty classroom, and once he was inside, she promptly locked it. She turned towards him quietly with ice cold eyes. Sirius couldn’t help but gulp. This was all starting to feel vaguely threatening and maybe he should have listened to his friends.

“Why are you following me everywhere?” She spoke clearly, hands clasped together on her skirt in a ladylike fashion.

“You know why, you have to know that I’m worried about you Sansa,” he said exasperated.

“Let me rephrase that, why are you acting as if you are worried about me now.”

“Are you kidding? You look as if you haven’t slept in days and a gust of wind can knock you over. Why else would I be worried!” He hoped he looked sufficiently angry at her lack of self care. Don’t be any more suspicious, he begged internally.

Sansa gazed at him coldly and she felt never more like a stranger than in this moment.

“I don’t know but sometimes when I’m trying to understand a person’s motive I play a little game. I assume the worst. What’s the worst reason you have for caring about me all of a sudden,” she said the last sentence, clearly not believing a word of it. “I came to the conclusion that the worst motive you can possibly have is that you’re a spy.”

A jolt went through him. She knows, or at least she’s too close to the truth.

“You’ve been Dumbledore’s man for many years now. With your ties to our family, you’re trying to get an in, to get information on Death Eater activity out of us. Out of me.”

“No! No, no, no, no!” He said hurriedly. “That’s not it at all!”

“Really? Because I am clearly the weak link. We were close as children, I’m here at Hogwarts with you. You’re my older brother. I’m younger, so you might think I’m naive.”

“I’m not trying to get information out of you!” He said loudly. “I’m worried about you! The people you’re friends with - they’re bad people! Bellatrix, Crouch Jr., Malfoy, Snape! Those Death Eaters in training are dragging you down! I don’t want you having only those people to turn to.”

This was all true, he realized. The past month of stalking his sister, he saw her alone, no friends but standing just on the outside of the same group of acquaintances that he knew were up to no good. He worried constantly for her future, if she would be pressured into becoming a Death Eater or a wife to one by them, his family, or Voldemort himself. He had pushed it to the back of his brain as it was one of their least worrying problems overall but still… She was his little sister.

“I’m trying to show you that you have me too! I’m here! If you don’t want to be branded by that snake, you can come to me!”

Maybe it was the fierceness of his tone, or that she could see no lies in his eyes but the stern face she made slowly came undone to let her vulnerabilities and tells be shown.

She was falling apart, he thought, morose. Sirius watched his sister’s mask crumble and for the first since that dratted hat sorted her into Slytherin, he could see the baby sister he used to play with. 

She rushed into his arms, landing with an oof, but it didn’t matter as she began to cry, large, shoulder shaking sobs into his chest. That day they missed the rest of their classes and she whispered between his arms of dreams, terrible and beautiful alike, dreams of ice blue monsters, iron thrones forged of swords and giant wolves. Of feeling trapped and on her guard wherever she went. Of weirwood trees with faces carved in. And of a longing pulling at her heartstrings making her unable to do anything but choke on how powerful it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa, she - she was crying! Not full blown sobs but still looking at where the wolf had stood, wand in the air, frozen in place, a tear fell quietly down her cheek.
> 
> “What’s wrong? Sansa?” He immediately asked, concerned.
> 
> Breathlessly, she whispered, eyes locked on the wall, seeing things he couldn’t possibly comprehend, “I remember.”
> 
> And Sirius’ heart stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is coming out all very quickly.
> 
> For some reason, when I envisioned this, I thought it would lean more towards a comedy. Yeah, I know. It's Game of Thrones, it's stupid to think that. They're all angst, angst, angst! Poison, death, war!
> 
> But yeah. Hope you enjoy!

Sirius wakes up to a high pitch scream. Disoriented, he stumbles out of the bed, throwing off blankets. Sansa! He makes quick work of the distance and throws the door open.

Sansa is moving, kicking, still stuck in her nightmare fighting an invisible attacker. He shakes her awake and still sobbing, she looks around wildly. 

“Everything’s ok, Sansa. You’re safe. You’re safe, I promise,” Sirius attempted to comfort her.

She sobs into his arms. Large, utterly heartbreaking sobs.

“He held me down against the bed!” His sister cried, “He ripped off my dress! I couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t breathe! And he laughed!”

Sirius went cold. His sister had been raped. Raped! He felt like throwing up. The Fox had said that Sansa had had a hard life in Westeros. How did he not realize that there was a possibility of this? In the Middle Ages, rape was rampant.

He held her closer but he felt like he was holding a glass figurine. If he held her any tighter, she would break. Does she even want the arms of a man around her after dreaming of such a traumatic encounter? 

Apparently, she did as she hugged him tighter, drawing comfort from him. Comfort he would gladly give.

“I still feel him inside me,” she whispered.

How much more do they not know about her past life? He was scared of how much they just don’t know. She was already breaking down and this is just glimpses of her past life.

Don’t let them become too much. Don’t let the memories take over your life, he begged silently. I can’t lose you again.

~#~

It felt good to have a relationship with his sister again. He would be the first to admit it. She was something missing in his life for so long, and he hadn’t even realized it was something he wanted. No, scratch that, he had pushed the thought down real deep. And when that hadn’t worked, he’d tried to have James take her place as his family. 

And James was his family, he was the adoptive brother he always wanted, his best friend, but Sansa... she was different. She’s his little sister, his ladylike perfect sister. The two were as different as night and day, James couldn’t have replaced her if he tried. 

“Alright, so let’s try again. It needs to be a powerful memory. A strong positive moment. The happiest you can remember! Allow it to fill you up until it’s spread through your body! Your fingers need to tingle!” Sirius instructed.

“I need to tingle?” Her lips quirked up mockingly.

“You’re laughing now, but you’ll see!”

His sister - always the overachiever - decided that the summer was the best time to work on spells she was having a hard time with. Honestly, it’s like she tries to make others look bad in comparison. Due to having a traumatic and nightmarish fifth year, she hadn’t been able to get much more than a wisps of a patronus. But she was determined.

As her cooler, already knows how to do a patronus, older brother, he has taken it upon himself to show her how. She was even more determined to learn after finding out he already knew how. He wasn’t going to tell her about his animagus, she would be impossible then and probably try to learn that too. A smile tugged at his lips.

Remus had written in a letter when he told him so that younger siblings often mimicked their elder siblings so she might be doing that. He had walked with a spring in his step for the rest of the day even when he read James’ reply two seconds later that she might just tell the ministry about the underage wizards being unregistered animagus’ and then be escorted to Azkaban. 

She frowned. Biting her lip, eyebrows crunching up, looking for the enigmatic memory. He gave her a moment to think on it properly and amused himself with catching a snitch.

“I’m ready,” she told him, still frowning.

“Are you sure? You would think you’d look a bit happier if you’re thinking about your happiest memory,” he joked.

“I’m sure,” she nodded. “I’ve found my happiest memory. I’ve never felt anything as strongly in this life.”

Sirius frowned and was going to ask about that particular wording choice but never got the chance.

“Expecto Patronum!” She spoke, brow furrowed fiercely.

Silver White wisps came out and soon an animal formed. A large, beautful silver wolf. His breath caught, it was bigger than he had imagined a wolf would be. It had just enough time to lock eyes on them before it disappeared. 

Sansa made a fully formed patronus and it stayed long enough that they could see it’s full body and not just glimpses. 

“Not bad,” he said, still looking at where the majestic wolf had been. He smiled and turned towards her, “Did you feel the tingle?” 

He trailed off. Sansa, she - she was crying! Not full blown sobs but still looking at where the wolf had stood, wand in the air, frozen in place, a tear fell quietly down her cheek.

“What’s wrong? Sansa?” He immediately asked, concerned.

Breathlessly, she whispered, eyes locked on the wall, seeing things he couldn’t possibly comprehend, “I remember.”

And Sirius’ heart stopped.

~#~

“GRYFFINDOR!” The sorting hat yelled.

A curly auburn haired little boy ran towards the Griffindor table. Squeezing between two third years, he shamelessly elbowed them to make space for him, not caring for their disgruntled looks.

Sirius couldn’t help but laugh at the reckless first year making his presence known before searching for his sister among the green and silver. He quickly spotted her by her fire kissed hair and let out a sigh of relief.

The last two weeks before they arrived at platform 9 and ¾, he had barely seen her. She spent her days in her room, not wanting to speak to anyone, only coming out for dinner and lunch. There were no breakdowns, no mignight talks, nothing but silence coming from her. The way she looked at him at dinner left him unable to speak. She gave him only cold, untrusting glances. 

All the progress they’ve spent the summer on rebuilding their bond, he feared it was gone. Gone in an instant! And he had no idea what to do. The Fox hadn’t summoned him in the two weeks, he didn’t know how to proceed. What if by confronting her, he made things worse and she offed herself? So he let the silence and distance grow between them at home with the excuse that she probably needs space to think about it all.

But at Hogwarts that tactic wasn’t going to make the cut. Being in two different houses meant they barely saw each other as it is, but being in Gryffindor and Slytherin, who hated each other would make it worse. 

After the feast, he ambushed her before she went to the Slytherin common room.

“We need to talk,” is all he said.

“Yeah, I figured,” she replied.

He led her to an abandoned classroom and it was eery how similar it felt to when she led him to one to confront him months ago. They came out stronger and a hope for a beginning of something new then. He hoped it did the trick once more.

“How are you?” he began, internally cursing himself. 

Bloody idiot, obviously not well! She has an entire new lifetime in her head. Memories of people dead long before she was born - people she’d loved! She’s remembered traumatic as fuck moments from a life that wasn’t hers anymore. Some that she had the right to forget and start anew. Yet her answer surprised him.

“Alright considering the circumstances.” she said drily. “I can’t complain seeing as I chose this.”

“You remember?” his voice faltered.

“Death? Not much. I just know that my family and I made a vow to remember - to remember everything, we just wanted to be together so badly. Nothing coming between us ever again.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?” If anyone ever overheard this conversation, they would do a doubletake at hearing Sirius Black so unsure. He felt like he kept asking the dumbest questions. She just - she felt like a stranger in his sister’s skin. 

He was the guy who got laughs out of people, he wasn’t the guy people came to tell their darkest secrets too. And he was the only one who could help her as only he knew. Nobody would believe her. Remus would probably be doing much better than him if he was in his position. Yet who has ever come across a situation like this.

“No,” she said immediately. Then reconsidered, “yes, maybe later. Can I trust you with my secrets, Sirius?”

“Of course,” he said forcefully, voice rough. “How can you doubt it? I’ve spent the entire summer keeping them!”

“Maybe, but that was a mistake,” she says coldly. “Sansa Stark trusted no one. Almost no one,” she amended. “I gave you too much information, the type that could get me commited. Sansa Black, slytherin she may be, was still too naive.”

“You aren’t,” he defended her. He was defending her from herself. Dark lords, family turning against family and this, the world’s going insane.

“I won’t tell you anymore than you already know unless you can give me a vow of silence.” 

“Fine, I promise I won’t tell anybody even though I’ve already been keeping your secret for months,” the sarcasm rang loudly.

“A vow on your magic,” she continued as if he hadn’t even spoken.

“Really? Isn’t that going too far? Vows on magic, they’re serious stuff, Sansa,” he took her hands in his, forced her to meet his eyes and looked for his Sansa. “You know that.”

She broke the eye contact first.

“Maybe, but they get the job done. And I’m protecting more than just me.”

He sighed. She really is asking too much from him. 

He did it anyway. 

Once they made their vow, he began questioning her once more. He started off with an easy one to ease her and himself into conversation.

“What was the memory you used for your patronus?”

“It was from the first dream of my life as a Stark that broke through. My siblings and I - we’d all been seperated from each other against our will and we each had been given horrible lots in life. Each as bad as the next one. After escaping from my… husband,” her nose scrunched up, “I made my way to the only person that I knew would help me. At least the only one that I knew the location of. My half-brother, Jon Snow. I hadn’t seen him since I was thirteen. The moment he held me in his arms, I felt safe and so very happy. I’d been alone for so long and I hadn’t felt so safe since the moment I witnessed my father’s execution,” she said, bitter still, centuries after his death.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, holding her hand.

She shrugged him off.

“Don’t be. You don’t know him, if you say sorry it just rings hollow.”

“Anyways, I hadn’t used that moment beforehand because I felt nervous. It just - it felt like it happened to another person entirely. It felt wrong to use it as it didn’t belong to me,” she explained. “But I’d never felt anything so strongly before that dream. I was getting desperate so I tried it.”

“Well, it worked. And it happened to a version of you,” he said weakly.

She gave a small laugh.

“I didn’t know that. I thought I was going insane.” 

“Then again, I never said you aren’t mad.” 

She pushed his chest lightly.

“I wondered for a bit if there was something wrong with me,” she mused, kicking her feet lightly as she sat on a desk. “Because I never felt so strongly as I did in my dreams. Everything just feels muted in comparison.”

He stayed quiet and let her get her thoughts out.

“It turns out that my life here is just so easy compared to what it was like before that it was just like a dream. Life is so easy now. I’m glad my siblings and I are born in this era.”

“Well, we do have a dark lord threatening to sujugate all of Europe and trying to get rid of all muggleborns.” He said, slightly annoyed. She was born in this life a pureblood, a Black, and so, she really did have it easy compared to muggleborns.

“Trust when I say that this is easy for all of us, even muggleborns” she said, eyes haunted. “One enemy with lots of power is better than having two or three at the time. And then when one dies, another is born. All we have to do in this life is keep our head down and not get noticed.”

He caught himself thinking she was over exagerating and immediately felt ashamed. He’s seen her after her nightmares, if she says that this is a dream in comparison than it must be.

He wished he could have a look at her memories, just so he could see it all for himself. Westeros was just something he couldn’t understand or relate to. He was trying to but it just wasn’t working. This was why her siblings were needed for her new life to work, without them, who would ever understand her at all?

Not for the first time, bitterness swelled up at these other siblings.

“So your patronus is a wolf, huh?” He changed the subject. “Mine’s a dog! We’re related!”

She smiled despite herself.

“Yes, except mine has those predator instincts that you lack.” She giggles. “And it’s a direwolf. I’m calling it Lady.”

How fitting a name.

“What’s a direwolf?” he questioned without thinking.

Her eyes dimmed.

“Direwolves are an extinct species now. They were beautiful. So beautiful,” he gave her a moment to recollect herself. “Obviously a close relative of wolves but they were stronger and larger. They were solitary creatures most of the time. Too many direwolves together can lead to conflict on who is the alpha. A direwolf would only join a pack of ordinary wolves because then they would be the leader.”

“That says a lot about you, doesn’t it, little sister?” he teased. He could see the solitary creature part for sure but he wasn’t fooling himself, his sister wasn’t the leader type.

She gave him a slight frown.

“The direwolves were my family’s sigil. The Starks were practically part wolf, at least that’s what people used to say about us. My father always said ‘when the snows fall and the white winds blow the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.’ He was right. We were stronger together than apart, we needed that to survive especially after his death. That’s where we differed from direwolves, we needed to be together.” Her voice doesn’t waver at this admittance.

She looks down at her lap thoughtfully. He doesn’t say he’s sorry this time as he’s learned his lesson but he wants to more than anything.

“We can talk about something else,” he offered, abandoning all subtlety.

“No,” she said. “I need to talk to someone.”

He nodded his head, deciding that being quiet and just letting her get everything out is the way to go.

They talked for another hour, he, there to listen to her reflect on her life as Sansa Stark and she, grateful that someone was listening. Someone knew the truth. They then seperated on his behest as the Marauders will probably be cross that he’s spent his first night in the castle with his sister who he’s been with all summer when he hasn’t seen them all summer.

~#~

He and Sansa meet weekly, usually at night when no one could bother them for talking to each other.

He knew it annoyed her that Slytherins would try to stop her from talking to her brother just because he was in Gryffindor and he could admit that it annoyed him when James would try to stop him. What was his problem about his sister, seriously? 

So he might have ranted about her once or twice (or a thousand times) and said that she was just the worst slytherin of them all who would, mark his word, be the first to sign up for the death eaters but he hadn’t meant it. She was his sister. That’s what siblings do, they fight and dish dirt on each other to friends. 

This time they met at lunch in the kitchens. The house elves adore Sansa, he doesn’t know what it is about her but he’s pretty sure she has a fan club of them. The captain is probably Kreacher, he scowled.

They walked to the Gryffindor dorms only to be abruptly interrupted when a little first year practically bulldozes over his sister. The two fall to the floor, Sansa landing on her butt and looking quite put out and the firstie rubbing his curly head. He vaguely recognizes the kid as being a first year gryffindor.

Sirius laughs at his sister and holds a hand out to her. He pulls her back up. Damn. She’s heavier than she looks.

“You’ve got to be more careful, kid. This one’s got teeth and they’re venemous,” he jokes.

The firstie practically growls at him, looking as if he has every intention to bite him if he, the sixth year, gets distracted. In the end, it wasn’t to be. He doesn’t experience all the joys of getting bitten by a child with rabies as their stare off gets interrupted.

“Rickon!” Sansa gasps, her hands to her mouth.

Sirius gaped. Her youngest brother, Sansa had told him. He had died at eleven years old from that bastard’s arrow.

The boy looks at her, and at first he looks confused by a stranger knowing his name but recognition quickly flashes across his face. He smiles widely revealing fang like teeth.

“MOTHER!”

He launches himself at her, clutching at her with tight fists, his face pressed against his stomach. She holds the child close to her just as fiercely though she looks confused as to why he’d call her mother of all things.

“I’ve missed you!” he sobbed into her chest.

Sirius could just watch this very touching reunion scene with relief that the Fox has come through and with... dread. 

So it’s started. The Starks are coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rickon’s breath caught, as he felt Sansa stop beside him. His eyes were glued to the boy and girl, both holding a Stark dark colouring and looking thirteen and fourteen moons leaning against a bookstore. Arya and Bran… they were here.
> 
> (It was a relief to be able to recognize them. He was remembering more and more of his childhood with his siblings.)
> 
> Sansa must’ve seen them too.
> 
> “Arya!” She gasped as she met eyes with her sister.
> 
> He ran as quickly as his little legs could get him towards Bran and Arya and clung to them as tightly as possible. His sister, Sansa, was tall. She made quick large strides to them and wrapped them in a forceful embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m not going to lie. I’m not all that satisfied with how this chapter turned out. In any case, it’s done.
> 
> This story will be spread over a number of years. Quickly skipping months of time, so yeah this is just a warning.
> 
> So I don’t own game of thrones, a song of Ice and fire or Harry Potter! I’m just having some fun with the characters!

The ever evolving relationship between Sirius and Sansa changes once more with the arrival of Rickon.

It becomes harder than ever to interact with his sister because Rickon took up all her time. She spoils the boy and dotes on him.

Rickon, the brother whom she’d been separated from since he was six, barely remembered Sansa. At the beginning, when he looked at her, older than when she had left, apparently her mother’s copy, he just saw their mother. 

Sirius knew it hurt her that the firstie couldn’t remember how she had been his favorite sibling once but Sansa explained who she was to Rickon and soon she became his favorite sibling once more.

He followed her like a puppy, nipping at her heels. When in the same room, he always had either a hand in hers or kept his eyes firmly on her. When people tried to separate them for ‘their own good’ because of house rivalries or even just for class, he caused loud scenes where he kicked and bit whoever tried to force him out of her classroom, be it teachers or students alike until Sansa calmed him. He was wild.

The little gryffindor had made his name known around the castle. Remus thought that he just wasn’t at that stage in his life where he was ready to go to a boarding school which requires a minimum of maturity to not be prone to so many screaming fits.

Sansa thought he was traumatized.

A pain to everyone around him in Gryffindor, he terrified his fellow first years when he growled at them, the teachers certainly didn’t know how to deal with him and none of the older students wanted to beat up an eleven year old even if he is an asshole.

The Slytherins had no such compunction and tried to give as good as they got. They never got far as he had a far more competent protector in Sansa who went after them ruthlessly as she had never done before. 

(Any slytherins that had doubts on whether she belongs in Slytherin and not in Ravenclaw never doubted that fact again.)

He was only malleable when he was with Sansa. The teachers resisted abetting him in his brawls for as long as they could, McGonagall especially, but they gave in soon enough as they gave up trying to control him through detentions and house points. They were just punishing Gryffindor house for something they had no part in.

How could Hogwarts, proclaimed, high and low, best school of magic, be unable to control an eleven year old? When he’s a bit older, they will be able to take more drastic actions — like expulsion — against him but until then, he got away with a lot more than any student had.

Soon enough Sansa and Rickon’s schedules corresponded so that they have breaks together and if she had a class when he didn’t, he could join her in it as long as he was quiet. She would do the same as he was mostly on his best behaviour with her there.

Sansa had told him in one of the rare moments when they were alone without Rickon that, “He doesn’t understand what is and isn’t decent behaviour. By the old gods and the new,” she put her hands on her forehead, “no one’s been raising him since he was six years old and he’d just been left to the wild.” 

He’d wanted to press and ask how come Rickon didn't understand how humans behaved in society when he’d been raised, in this life at least, by humans but she gave him a pleading look and he caved. He didn’t bother her anymore with complaints about her little brother.

Merlin knows her housemates are giving her enough trouble as it is.

“In any case,” she said, unusually optimistic, “he’ll calm down once he gets used to the fact that I’m here and I’m not leaving. That I won’t disappear like everyone else did.”

The doubt must’ve showed on his face because she scowled at him fiercely and stomped off. 

Damn Rickon.

~#~

“I heard he’s been planted by death eaters to be a mole in Gryffindor house. So that he can spy and gain Dumbledore’s confidence!” one student whispered.

“I don’t know, the sorting hat decision is never wrong. Plus, his last name isn’t a pureblood name I can remember. I think he was left as a baby in the wild to be raised by wolves!” 

“You guys are all wrong, I heard from Mandy who heard from Charlie that he’s a muggleborn!” 

“No way! What muggleborn would put themselves at the mercy of a slytherin!”

“Maybe he doesn’t know, wasn’t told who she was. Now Black is manipulating and controlling him to do her bidding!”

Sansa hid her smile as she walked behind the gossip hounds. Some of them were closer to the truth than others and some were just so off base. Was it terrible for her to be just a bit proud of Rickon for being so unbending? 

He was after all her little wild wolf.

~#~

“Sansa, will you teach me how to fly? That would be so cool and you know so many tricks!” Rickon grinned excitedly.

Sirius blanched at the thought of the little tosser on a broomstick.

“Maybe when you’re older, sweetling.” Sansa cooed. It was disturbing to say the least. His friends clearly thought so too by the way they scooted away from her.

Rickon, wanting to eat in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, had dragged a mostly willing Sansa to the Gryffindor table.

The gryffindors, although annoyed at how the Starks were taking the piss out of them, were humiliated at having a Black at their table that wasn’t Sirius and had uncharacteristically brooded in silence. They’re expressions were murderous. Rickon was really getting them used to the new order of things in his dominion.

Sirius tried to just act like this was a normal, every day event. He forced a smile.

“Rickon, Sans and I are both on our quidditch teams. I can give you all the tips, you’ll be flying like a pro in no time!”

Sansa glared at him for encouraging her sweetling’s interest in the dangerous game that is Quidditch. It wouldn’t matter anyway because of the boy’s cold response.

“No thanks, I don’t want to learn from you,” the boy glared. He pulled at Sansa’s sleeve. “Sansa, please! I promise to be good.”

This little twat. He knew that the wanker had it out for him. James and Remus said he was overthinking it but he knows he’s right. Every time Rickon catches Sirius with their shared sister, he distracts her and pulls her away from him.

“Next year,” she said, firmly. “Then I’ll know you have all the basics down and we can start.”

Inevitably, some reckless third year who didn’t have the memo spoke up and demanded that she leave their table. Only to immediately regret it when Rickon attempted to jump over the table, growling like a wolf. Merlin, the kid has to have rabies, Sirius thought unkindly as he held the little bugger back. 

“Sans, let’s chat tonight. Maybe we could have a midnight snack in the kitchens,” Sirius said in a low tone not to be overheard by others. But Rickon heard and his head snapped towards him with a snarl on his lips. 

“No,” he snapped. “Sansa and I are spending the night together.”

“Rickon!” she scolded. “I’ve been with you every night for the last week. You know night time is the only one I can talk to Sirius.”

He couldn’t hold in the smug smile if he tried. And he didn’t. Try, that is. The kid’s eye twitched in irritation. And then with control he didn’t think Rickon had, the boy didn’t jump him but turned towards his sister with lowered eyes.

“I’m scared when you leave at night before I fall asleep. I keep thinking it’s the last time I'll see you. Don’t leave me,” he pleaded pitifully.

“Oh sweetling,” she embraced him. “ Alright, I’ll stay with you tonight but we’re going to have to confront this fear of yours at one point.”

Sirius’ smile dropped. Rickon peaked his head over her arm and gave him a vicious grin. 

That bloody arse.

~#~

Sansa held Rickon’s hand tightly as they navigated the busy streets of Hogsmeade village. He knew that she knew that if she let it go, he’d go running down the street. As it is, he simply tugged her in different directions. 

She had snuck him out after he begged her to show him the wonders of the wizarding world outside of Hogwarts even though he isn’t allowed to go there because he was too young. 

He had given her a tale of woe on how he wouldn’t be allowed to anyway when he was old enough because the orphanage didn’t like to be bothered by silly things like the orphans. She had capitulated.

He pushed as far as he could to see what were her limits with him. At one point, he knew she would be a stone wall against his pleas and puppy dog eyes but for now she let it go. Rickon knew she would act as the unbending Lady of Winterfell at some point. He will take full advantage of her spoiling him until then.

(He takes comfort in being her favorite, the one who would get away with the most.)

Rickon liked that he was born an orphan in this life. With no idea if he was muggleborn, half blood or full blood. Being a no name orphan could have saved him in his last life, he only died because he was the trueborn son of Ned Stark.

Nevertheless, he was relieved. If he had a family in this life, it would have been much harder to renounce them for his true family. If he had a mother or father, could he look at them without feeling like he was betraying his real parents memories. No, he couldn’t. He would be torn between two.

Like his sister is. Sansa has a brother from the Blacks. She’s constantly splitting her time between them and he hates it. 

(Sirius isn’t one of them. What if she chooses him over them?)

Rickon’s breath caught, as he felt Sansa stop beside him. His eyes were glued to the boy and girl, both holding a Stark dark colouring and looking thirteen and fourteen moons leaning against a bookstore. Arya and Bran… they were here.

(It was a relief to be able to recognize them. He was remembering more and more of his childhood with his siblings.)

Sansa must’ve seen them too.

“Arya!” She gasped as she met eyes with her sister.

He ran as quickly as his little legs could get him towards Bran and Arya and clung to them as tightly as possible. His sister, Sansa, was tall. She made quick large strides to them and wrapped them in a forceful embrace. 

Soon they were a mess of limbs holding each other tightly, clutching each other like they were one another’s lifelines. 

They were _home, home, home!_

Four members of the pack, together once more. Now, they’re just two missing. All that’s left to find is Jon and Robb. The big brothers and once protectors of their family. 

The pack is almost complete.

“You two were together,” Sansa whispered with a soft smile.

“Yes, and you’re with Rickon.” Bran replied calmly.

“I suppose with our new lives, we all have a new tale to tell of life while we were separated.” Arya smirked.

Sansa laughed. “Let's go find somewhere to sit. So we can tell stories. How would you feel about Madam Puddyfoot’s Tea Shop?”

“No!” Rickon blurted out. Bloody hell, he had seen it earlier and… “It’s so pink!”

Then he saw the mischievous look in her eye. She was just messing with them, thank the gods.

“How did you find us anyway?” Sansa asked.

“While I am no longer the Three Eyed Raven and my connection to the old gods has weakened as their influence has, I still hold some power of Greenseers.”

“You had a vision,” she summarized.

“You should’ve seen him when he found me,” Arya snorted. “Sitting at the feet of my doorstep waiting for something to happen. Then our eyes met and we remembered.”

“Are you wizards too?” Rickon asked, jumping on the small of his feet.

“No, I’m normal,” Arya shrugged.

“You can never be normal,” their eldest sister snorted.

“I was until the memories came back. Now I remember my training with the faceless men, how to wield a sword, how to kill. My list. My only regret is that I don’t have Needle with me once more. And that I couldn’t cross the last few names off my list myself,” She added darkly.

“What about you, Bran?” Rickon continued, unconcerned with his sister’s admittance to murder.

He had spent the years after being chased out of Winterfell on Skagos with Osha, he was comfortable with eating dead companions when there’s a bad harvest. He knows death and what the world is like, well was like, enough to know that the world is made of shades of gray. 

“In this life, I am what these people consider a wizard. Yet my grandmother upon learning that I held the sight thought I must be a seer as well. It would do her no good to know that is the least of my powers. She homeschooled me to hide me from the dark lord as she does not trust Dumbledore’s word or believe his protection enough.” He said, with a slow, well earned smile.

Sansa couldn’t stop looking at him. 

(The last time she’d seen him, he’d been the Three Eyed Raven and she’d feared that any part left of Bran Stark was long gone. There was so much more life on his face now.)

“Dumbledore’s an old man! How can he protect us from evil men!” Rickon let out a breathless laugh.

“He’s very powerful,” Sansa scolded him, smile fading. “Don’t underestimate him. I wouldn’t trust him though. He knows how to play the game, like I do and… he reminds me of Littlefinger.”

~#~

“I can’t believe I found them, Sirius,” Sansa beamed.

“I can believe it. You were always meant to reunite with them.” Sirius replied, taking a spoonful of pudding.

“Yeah but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. There were many times I thought I would be brought home to my family, that I was so close I could taste it. Then when what was left of us was reunited, we were soon at war with the dead. And then I died.” She said, scowling.

When she had told him of the night king and the army of the dead, he hadn’t believed her. The long night and what she described seemed so bloody far fetched. He isn’t a muggle. He knows magic like the back of his hand. He was raised in the center of it all. 

The dead don’t come back to life. It’s a rule of magic. 

The weather doesn’t work the way she described it. That’s just common sense. 

But she rebutted him saying that the gods she worshipped must be dying out because she has seen no weirwood trees in modern day England. Then, she goaded him into searching her mind.

Seeing it himself, the monsters that killed his sister, horrified him. They were inhuman in a way the goblins, house elves and werewolves were not. Those monsters of winter, they just didn’t care as they killed. They did not feel anything, they just kept moving even after being cut in half. They had these sunken decaying bodies that made him shudder. 

They reminded him of that one movie he had seen when he had sneaked to Lily’s place during the summer with the Marauders. What was it called again? ‘Night of the Living Dead’. By an italian or american bloke, he thinks.

“So when are you going to see them again?” he asked, fist clenching and unclenching.

“On the next hogsmeade trip. You’ll come with me and Rickon. I want you to meet them.” she demanded with a large grin. His eyebrow raised as if to silently ask “oh am i?” 

“You’re going to love them! Arya is such a gryffindor!”

~#~

“How is Arya a gryffindor!” he demanded of Sansa in a loud whisper. He had asked to talk to her in private and had dragged her off to the other side of the room. “She is literally the embodiment of a slytherin!”

Sansa winced.

“Sorry, i was thinking of when she was a child. She was such a gryffindor when she was a child. Now, she’s still very brave and reckless but she has some slytherin tendencies.” she replied hastily.

 _Some?_

Arya was sneaky, quiet, and creepy. At this very moment, she was staring at them threateningly, a predator whose eyes are locked on her prey. Him. He was her prey, just to clarify. And don’t get him started on the other one.

Bran Stark was just as creepy as his sister. Sometimes in the conversation, his face would flatten into a blank. He would look dead on the inside and as if he has no idea what is happening in front of him. Sansa didn’t seem to notice as she continued to talk to him as if he wasn’t being extremely creepy and the conversation went on undisturbed. 

His sister hadn’t told him much of the siblings she had died with. He barely knew anything about the other one, the cousin. Just that he had been raised alongside them as her bastard half brother.

(Apparently, in Westeros, when an illegitimate child is born they aren’t allowed their family name. Barbaric aresholes.)

She mostly spoke of her childhood with them and he couldn’t recognize the children she had described in these people. This wasn’t the Bran who wanted to be a knight and had a knack for climbing the walls of her castle. This wasn’t the Arya who loved to put animal feces under her pillow. 

Then again, she was different from how she described herself in all her stories of Winterfell.

All in all, his first impression of all the Stark children wasn’t the best. How could any of these wankers be related to his ladylike sister?

Rickon is literally a savage little beast who is more wolf than human.

Arya is utterly the death eater type. She just has the vibe of a cold blooded killer. 

And Bran is pretty much not all there there. 

“Please Sirius, try to get along with them. They’re my family,” she said, eyes intense. Then she added, “you’re my family. I want you to get along.”

He had just gotten her back, he reminded himself. He’s not risking losing her again.

He sighed.

Sirius sat back down at the table and once more tried to make easy conversation.

~#~

_Sansa,_

_I will get to the point. I found Robb and Jon._

Sansa dropped the piece of parchment on the floor of the owlery in her surprise. Quickly, she picked it up and started reading the letter with much more attentiveness.

 _With the Greensight, I was able to see potentially places they would be at. Arya and I went to the first two but they weren’t there. Forgive us for not informing you earlier sister. We didn’t want to get yours and Rickon’s hopes up if we didn’t find them right. Fortunately, I was able to locate them in Northumberland._

They were so close.

She traced the words smiling and quickly wiped the tears welling in her eyes before they fell and read on. 

_They were together as well. Isn’t it funny? You found Rickon, I found Arya and Jon found Robb. It seems the gods favoured us in this life so that we wouldn’t be stuck living this life lone wolves without our packs among lions and snakes. We weren’t alone._

_In any case, in this life, both Robb and Jon are non magical. They had no idea about magic and were at first wary of the new magic because of Melisandre and her Red God but I convinced them that no wizard or witch in their right mind sacrifices children to be burned to death._

_Jon has been living this life as the only child of two normal loving accountants. You will be happy to know that he’s lived a very happy life with a childhood that would make anyone salivate with envy. He found Robb a few months ago as they go to the same university and both study business where they then stumbled into each other as they went to their very first class of this semester._

_Robb has lived as the second youngest child of the CEO of a large hotel empire around Europe. From what Arya, Jon and I have gathered, it has not been as happy a time. His siblings' rivalries, manipulation and backstabbing are as bad as those of the Lannisters. He’s told us a bit but mostly that he’s trying to distance himself from them by going to a less distinguished school. Our older brother has never been any good at politics. As you can probably tell he’s very happy he chose so. If not for how much they drove him loony, he would have gone to Oxford or something._

_They asked me to tell you that they cannot wait to see you, Sansa. Rickon too. They asked me not to include what’s next but Arya says I must._

_Jon is haunted by his last image of you because after you died, you were turned into a wight and he was forced to kill you._

_Robb is nervous about seeing you due to how different you might be. As you well know, he hasn’t seen you since you were thirteen, and after seeing how much Arya and I have changed, he’s terrified of what might’ve changed in his favorite sister (we all know you were, don’t deny it!)_

_Tonight, take the secret passageway to Hogsmeade with Rickon. We will meet you on the other side and I will have a portkey to bring you both to our older brothers._

_We cannot wait for the next of your school approved visits because in three days, there will be a death eater attack in Hogsmeade. No one will be killed but your school will no longer allow the trips there._

_Do not tell anybody that you’re leaving. Not even your brother._

_Bran_

Sansa let out a stuttering breath. That was a lot of information.

She would need to warn Rickon to meet her in front of the Room of Requirements before curfew.

(They had been using it for their nighttime arrangements.

Since no one would let a Gryffindor and a Slytherin or a boy and a girl sleep in a room together, even if they were siblings in another life, which she admits the teachers do not know, they had been turning it into their rooms in Winterfell.

They alternated between each other’s chambers. It felt good to sleep in a place that so resembled home. 

Even if it was fake.)

She hesitated just a bit as she reread the part saying not to tell Sirius. She had a feeling that this visit was going to be more than one night but following Bran’s advice usually was a good idea considering all he knew. It had become invaluable during her time as Lady of Winterfell and Jon’s time as the King in the North.

She wasn’t going to stop now just because her blood was Black blood and there was not a drop of Stark in her anymore. No matter what her blood said, she was still the daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark. 

She was a wolf of Winterfell.

And it’s high time the pack is one once more.

~#~

“Mr. Black, I would like to speak with you privately.” McGonnagal said with a stern look towards the Marauders who were eavesdropping. 

“What did he do, professor? Did he get caught with a girl in the broom closet after curfew again?” James said with a mocking grin meant for him. He had terrible friends, really. When he was in trouble, for what exactly this time, they always took the mickey out of him for having gotten caught. Trouble is he hasn’t got caught in the midst of a prank or illicit rendezvous in quite a while so he has no idea what this is about.

“No, it’s nothing of the sort,” she said with a sniff of disdain. “Professor Dumbledore would like to meet with you in his office.”

The boys exchange looks.

“Now?” He asks, putting his fork down.

“Now, Mr. Black. Don’t tell me you’re hard of hearing already,” she said briskly, already walking to Dumbledore’s office.

“Good luck,” Remus said unconcerned.

“Thanks, mate. Make sure my remains don’t go to my parents,” he replied sarcastically.

Can they not see he was going to his doom? Traitors.

“Enter,” Dumbledore’s voice said calmly from the other side of the door.

“Professor, you wanted to see me,” he said walking into the office.

He sat himself into one of the chairs without being asked to first.

“Yes, I’m afraid I have terrible news for you.” Dumbledore said looking at him from below his glasses with a grave face.

Sirius squirmed in his chair. Had his dear old mother finally kicked the bucket? Because that would be the type of terrible news that he would quite happily cheer for.

“Your sister, Sansa, has gone missing since last night.”

Sirius went cold and took a deep breath. 

It’s a misunderstanding. 

She wasn’t at breakfast this morning. He thought she might be taking it with the little shit in the kitchens.

It can’t be as bad as it sounds. She wasn’t a muggleborn, she’s a pureblood! She was safe from Voldemort. More importantly, he can’t whisk her out of Hogwarts. It’s Hogwarts! The safest place in Britain.

“As well as Rickon Jones, a first year in your house. They were last seen at dinner last night but we’ve noticed that they haven’t been in their classes all day. When inquired, we were told that they were not in their dormitories last night. It might be just the follies of children skipping a day of school but with Voldemort and his followers, we can never be too careful. Please notify me if she contacts you.” Dumbledore continued.

Sirius nodded dumbly.

She was with Rickon. Was he a muggleborn? Had someone in Slytherin finally snapped and killed him? Maybe Sansa had witnessed it and they took her to shut her up.

 _Or maybe,_ a dark voice whispered, _she’s had enough of you, the Black family and Hogwarts. She’s left with Rickon. Think about it, she doesn’t need you. Sansa is leaving this life behind and everyone in it too._

_Maybe you’ve lost._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is it,” Bran breathed.
> 
> Robb and Rickon shared a glance behind him as if to ask if he was alright in the head. After all, _why would he lead them to this dump?_ She couldn’t blame them but she knew and trusted Bran’s instincts at this point and she followed them to the tea. 
> 
> She had been rewarded for doing so in the past with her siblings being returned to her.
> 
> So she stepped under the caution yellow tape and opened the rotten wood door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so it’s been a while but I’ve been hard at work on this fic. This is one of the longest chapters I’ve written (ever) and I’ve already started writing the next chapter. So I hope you enjoy!

Robb walked to the bench where Jon sat and brooded, he stood there fidgeting, waiting and then turned back and briskly walked to the garbage can nearby.

He’s been pacing ever since they arrived, eager to be reunited with his littlest brother, the wildest of the Starks, and his little sister, gentle and sweet who he was unable to see as anything but what she was when he died, a hostage still waiting to be rescued from that Lannister bitch and her incestuous bastard son.

She isn’t stuck in King’s Landing anymore. He knows that. But he spent so long tormenting himself with the knowledge that she was a hostage to the most vile family in Westeros. He wouldn’t be able to believe that she was safe and sound until she stood before him and told him so.

He used to dream about it. In every dream, she and Arya would be before him, just as young and naive as they had been when they had left the North. 

Unhurt.

He’d barely allowed himself to hope that Joffrey treated them with the dignity they were owed as the daughters of the liege lord of the North but _still._ He’d wanted it so badly. For them to be returned safe. Arya would jump in his arms and he would ruffle her hair and hold her tight. Sansa, who looked to him as her protector, would smile sweetly at him and say _I always knew you’d save me from that awful place. Take me home now._

He would never allow them to leave the North. He often said so in those dreams. They’ll marry Northmen or not at all. Only Northmen can be trusted to treasure them as he does. But as always he’d wake up to the reality that Arya was betrothed to Walder Frey’s many sons and Sansa would be set into a political marriage to secure the North.

Then the oathbreaker came and the dreams were gone, replaced by nightmares of Sansa begging him to trade Jaime Lannister for them. Arya, his spitfire sister, dead from fighting back against the Lannisters, beaten bloody. _The oathbreaker’s capture was a curse disguised as a blessing just like their pretty golden faces hid rotten insides._ It made him break his oath to do whatever must be done to save the girls. 

He had needed to choose between his sisters and the thousands of men that chose to fight for him. It was no choice really. He loved his sisters but he couldn’t allow so many men to die for his heart’s desires. 

_Then he did so anyway._

If there was one regret in his life as Robb Stark, it was following where his heart led at the wrong time. _Talisa,_ her image, pregnant and shocked as he held her and red coated his hand came to the front of his brain. _I should have left her alone. Never got her involved in this war. She would have lived if not for me._

He was quickly startled out of his morose thoughts by Jon shaking his arm.

“Look!” His brother (cousin really, he found out. Not that it matters.) said pointing to the sky.

He looked up and his breath stopped short. Not only were there four figures in the sky holding onto a thick scarf (yes, he had been told to expect this. But still it’s not everyday that one sees people flying) but it was his four younger siblings.

He was still amazed by the sight of Bran and Arya if a little flummoxed by how different they seem at times and then at others, they’re exactly who he remembered them to be but the sight of Sansa and Rickon after so long (in the sky!) made him choke up just a little.

Sansa and Rickon still had the impressive red hair that they all, with the exception of Arya, shared with their mother. They floated closer to them, spinning, and he could see that just like the rest of them, they looked exactly like who they truly are _Starks_ but just a little bit older.

He could have marvelled at the sights for forever but then Rickon let go of the scarf and what would’ve been a graceful landing turned into a bumpy ride.

Moving quickly, he and Jon, panicking, positioned themselves to catch their quickly falling little brother.

Rickon, thankfully, crashed in their arms and they all tumbled to the floor beneath his weight. _He used to hold Rickon like this all the time when he was a babe, now he’s much heavier._ Robb needs to go back to the gym, build some muscles. In this life, he didn’t have the strength that came so easily in his past life.

“You’re here,” Rickon laughed breathlessly. “You’re both here!” Unconcerned that he had almost fallen from great high to the ground. Robb’s arms tightened.

“Always,” Jon whispered gravely. 

“You’re so big now,” Robb couldn’t help but exclaim.

Rickon grinned cheekily.

“Yup! Watch out, soon I’ll be taller than you!”

“Never,” he couldn’t hold in the roguish grin that made its way onto his face. “You’ll never grow any bigger if I have my way.”

Rickon threw his arms around Robb once more.

“I’ve missed you, Robb!”

By the gods, this really is the happiest day of his life. _Reuniting with his real siblings._

“Rickon, are you alright,” a voice cried behind them. It took him a moment to realize it was Sansa’s. Her voice had changed a bit with age.

His eyes landed on her and his voice caught as he tried to reassure her that _yes, Rickon is fine._ From up close, she looked nothing like before. Maybe he was biased from having known her so well.

She was still just as beautiful and ladylike as she’d ever been but her eyes — they showed none of the sweetness and gentle openness that had been there before. By the Old Gods, she looked like Mother. His mind immediately went to the day she had been born and how Mother had said _this is your little sister, Robb._ He had looked at the little baby in his arms with wonder, she had been ugly then but it had made him want to protect her all the more. Father had put his hand on his shoulder and said _it is your duty to protect her from all those that would hurt her_ and Robb had sworn to do so. _He had sworn!_ Little Sansa would know no misery and she would always be as happy as she had been the day she had gifted him with her first smile.

“He’s fine,” Arya’s irritated voice carried. “I thought you said this was safe?”

“It is. You know that no one has ever gotten seriously injured from Portkeys, Sansa. He just let go a bit too early,” Bran reassured.

But Sansa wasn’t paying them any attention. Reassured that Rickon was just as energetic as he had always been, her eyes had shifted to her older brothers.

She looked at the two of them in disbelief and after a wary moment of taking them in, she clasped her arms around Robb. He relaxed. She didn’t blame him. _Fuck,_ he can’t cry. He’s the eldest, he can’t start crying. It would throw them all off. Instead, he buried his head inside her red hair. So similar to his own.

They held each other in silence for a very long time, it felt like the world around them had disappeared. Then, he heard her breath hitch. It hit him that she had grieved his death just as much he suffered imagining hers. It had felt like a missing limb just having them all so far away, not knowing if his little siblings were safe. He couldn’t imagine how she heard the news of his death, but probably not gently. Joffrey or Cersei probably crowed about it for weeks.

They let each other go slowly and Robb kissed his sister’s forehead tenderly. She smiled slightly at that. 

She then turned towards Jon and threw her arms around him. He clutched her close so strongly that he lifted her up slightly in the air, her toes no longer touching the floor.

She laughed and kissed his cheek.

Robb wrapped his arms around Rickon. It did his heart good to see the two so close. Sansa had always followed their mother’s lead in everything, including how she treated their half brother/cousin.

It’s comforting to see that in times of trouble, they came together and supported each other. He knew it hurt Jon, the distance Sansa put between them when she was a child. Robb just wished that he could have witnessed it first hand.

He looked at his siblings. All together once more. 

And his heart rejoiced. 

They were all safe and in front of his eyes. He could touch them and hold them.

If only their parents could see them.

~#~

Sansa huffed as her body fell backwards on Jon’s bed which since they had begun to stay here had turned into the girls room.

Arya had laughed herself silly when she had seen their arrangements. It was so very strange compared to their lodgings in Winterfell. She wasn’t complaining. She has lived on the road and in much worse condition than this but seeing two former Kings in the North sharing beds with their sleep talking and moving little brothers was hilarious.

They had been staying in Jon’s and Robb’s apartment since they had arrived by portkey three days earlier and since they’re was only two single beds, Robb was sharing his with Rickon and Jon was with Bran on the uncomfortable sofa bed.

They had spent the past three days catching up, talking about the magical world half of their siblings were entrenched in, and grimly speaking of the war and the dead bodies racking up into the triple digits. Sansa spoke of this Voldemort fellow that her family was loyal to as if he were Mad King Aerys come again. Arya had added him to her list. She didn’t want any Joffrey-like person near her sister. They studiously avoided the subject of her other brother.

Robb had told them the story of how when he met Jon once again, they had spent a week catching up before he invited Jon to stay at his place because his roommate in the dorms was loony. Now, they share rent here. 

Jon told them all about his new parents and how absolutely lovely they were. Robb chimed in from time to time to agree. He had met them a few times and he likes them much more than his family.

Arya kept her mouth shut of her own new life because well, how can she tell them she ran away from it the minute she remembered? Bran knew and he kept sending her looks to tell them but she stubbornly kept silent on the subject.

Finally she ended up telling them all about it when Rickon spoke of his orphanage and how much he hates it there. Robb had immediately declared that they can take care of him during the summer with Jon already planning on how they would gain custody of their youngest brother.

She confessed to the fact that she now held the official title of teenage runaway. (They all did anyway, at this moment. Except for Robb and Jon.) As Jon’s warm hand held onto one of her own and Sansa held the other, she spoke of how her parents barely paid her any attention since the divorce and they had begun their second families. She shrugged it off, trying not to let show how much that had hurt as a child but by the way her siblings hold on her hands tightened, she feared she didn’t do as good of a job as she had hoped.

The novelty of one gaining her love over the other had worn off and so had their love for her. Now she’s gone from their favorite piece of furniture that they want to keep in the divorce to the vase her grandmother had given them for their wedding that was so ugly neither of them had wanted it. She was the problem child, the blemish on their new perfect families. The point five that people spoke of when they say two point five kids and a white picket fence.

It had been such a relief when she had seen Bran and been hit by all the memories. Knowing all she knew now, having all the experience she did, how could she be expected to wait around at a home nobody wanted her in anyways?

It had been a memorable few days to say the least. No doubt, they were all hiding secrets still but they spilled more information the longer they were together. Tears and laughter were a regular occurrence in casa de Stark. 

“Honestly, I love him but he’s driving me mad! He always needs to be in the same room as me and he acts as if I’m going to disappear if he even looks away from me.”

“You’re talking about Robb, aren’t you?” Arya asked. “He did the same to Bran and I when we found them. He couldn’t let us go for a second.” The irritation bled into her tone a bit. She had let him do it the first few days as she had needed it too but she missed her independence. His watch over her had finally ended when she had brought back Sansa and Rickon. It had been a relief to say the least.

“Do you think I need to talk to him about this? Make an intervention or something of the like?” Sansa elegantly stretched in the bed. 

“And say what? Even though we were essentially kidnapped by today’s standards, you three times, you would say Robb, you don’t need to be so overprotective?” She snorted. _If Robb had his way, we would be living permanently in his apartment._

“Is it too harsh?” She gave them the same pleading look that had made men go to war for her and Arya couldn’t help but feel a twinge in her chest at her sister’s beauty.

A whole second passed before Bran broke the silence. “Yes, don't. He’ll cry.” 

Arya and Sansa both looked at Bran, who surprisingly gave them a ghost of his familiar boyish grin, and despite everything that was happening, Arya could see Sansa’s lips twitching up and in an instant, Arya’s laughter bubbled up inside her chest, escaping wild and free, until it was the only sound inside the room. Sansa seemed unable to stop herself and joined in, her laughter sounding nothing like her usual prim and proper self.

The weak joke did it’s job in avoiding the serious conversation that they don’t want to have once again. The image of their brave older brother crying like a baby at Sansa’s words was just so strange. He just _doesn’t_ do that. He’s Robb.

As their giggles subsited, Arya noticed Bran had a very familiar blank look on his face with eyes a million miles away. _Uh oh._

“Bran?” Sansa called worriedly.

“Greensight,” Arya explained to her sister. Bran hadn’t had a vision in front of their sister in this life yet. 

She watched intently Bran’s face for signs of life and emotions. When he started twitching and his face began moving, she knew he was coming back to them.

“Are you okay?” She asked him. “Did you see anything interesting?”  
“Alterwood,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “We need to find Alterwood Castle.”

Arya and Sansa exchanged looks over his head. _Do you know what he’s talking about?_ Sansa’s eyes inquired, to which she made a face that said it all. _I’ve got no bloody clue._

It looks like they are going on a wild goose chase to find this castle.

_Greensight. More like greenshit._

~#~

Alterwood Castle was a big old estate made entirely of stone. They entered through the stone archway and Arya quickly realized it was abandoned. No one would live here. Not with the partially caved in roof and the obvious fact that no care has gone into the greenery leaving shrubs that have taken over part of the wall and weeds being almost all that can be seen of the grounds.

It has two, well now one chimney. Narrow windows spaces that have no glass stopping people or bad weather from entering inside the estate. Arya can just imagine what it must have been like to live here back when it was still in good shape. Probably a lot like some of the castles in the North.

“This is it,” Bran breathed.

Robb and Rickon shared a glance behind him as if to ask if he was alright in the head. After all, _why would he lead them to this dump?_ She couldn’t blame them but she knew and trusted Bran’s instincts at this point and she followed them to the tea. 

She had been rewarded for doing so in the past with her siblings being returned to her.

So she stepped under the caution yellow tape and opened the rotten wood door. It creaked as it opened as if it was the first time in years that people have come through it.

It was dark inside. The only light being the natural one coming from the door. Jon behind her put a brick he found outside in the way of the door to hold it ajar. Sansa stayed close to him cautiously, hands unconsciously reaching for his.

Arya quickly took her keychain flashlight from her backpack and turned it on.

It was just as stony from the inside with none of the smooth painted walls that were so normal now. Moss was growing between the stones from what she could see. 

Bran walked through the hall as if in a haze and they quickly followed him. She glanced at one of the rooms they passed by and could see a faded old graffiti. A dash of colour among all the cold grey of the stones. _So someone had broken in here before them._

He stopped when they reached the end of the hall, a room just as empty as all the others.

Bran turned around as if expecting something special to show up. She could tell he was getting frustrated.

“That’s it?” Rickon asked, oblivious to his older brother’s vexation. _Can we leave now?_ His face said. He’d been oddly quiet the entire since they arrived at this castle.

“Bran, it might be that you’re missing something,” Jon said gently. “You probably misunderstood the vision.”

“No, I know it’s this estate, this room! This is what I saw!” Bran frowned , voice rising slightly. “Maybe what the Old Gods wanted me to see is upstairs!”

He quickly moved to go to the spiraling staircase they passed by earlier, only to be caught by Robb who held onto his elbows to stop him from recklessly going up.

“Yeah, we’re not going up there. It doesn’t look safe.” He said firmly.

“But you don’t understand! This place is calling me! There’s a reason for it, there needs to be,” Bran pleaded.

Robb was unmoved.

“I saw a hole in it, it’s too shaky.” 

Sansa opened the door to the large backyard of the estate to give them a bit more light.

“Maybe we missed something, we’ll keep looking in here. Who knows? The Gods might be trying to show you something small.” She comforted him.

Arya quickly started looking closer with her flashlights to the cracks in the walls. _Something might be hidden there._ She could see her brothers following her lead to look for something, anything they might’ve missed in this bare room.

Sansa gasped. Arya looked up and went towards her as her sister called them over. She looked at where she was looking, outside in the yard and held her own gasp in.

A larger than life tree with blood red leaves stood among all the grey and faded green. It’s thick white twisting trunk was mightily familiar.

“It can’t be,” Jon whispered.

Bran was smiling, delighted to be proven right. The Old Gods were leading them to something here. 

“A weirwood tree,” he crowed.

Sansa took large steps to quickly get to the Weirwood tree and they all were close behind her.

There was no mistaking it. She touched the bark and her fingers caressed the crying face carved into the tree. Feeling this residue from their past. Sansa’s eyes filled with tears and Jon took her other hand into his own.

“The last piece of the Old Gods of the Forest, a heart tree,” Arya smiled.

There might be no more North, direwolves or Children of the Forest but there was still one last Weirwood tree and not just any, a heart tree.

A symbol of their faith, something Bran could draw his powers from without tiring.

A piece of home.

~#~

“We need to buy this property,” Robb said. Sansa and Bran nodded in agreement.

“What?” Jon’s jaw dropped. “With what money? Robb, be rational about this. It’s a bloody castle.”

“With my money,” Robb continued stubbornly. “My family uses money and flushes it away like it’s toilet paper. My father spent 2 million euroes on having a literal golden toilet. They probably won’t even notice.”

Sansa supported him in the insane idea of buying the castle when they could just as easily trespass for free.

“A castle like this is cheap. The roof is caved in, it has no modern appliances and it needs a lot, and I mean a lot of renovations before it's liveable again. I can help pay too.”

“Just because you guys are rich in this life, doesn’t mean we are. This is a useless and expensive place already but then it’ll be renovation after renovation so that we can make it suitable for humans to live here.”

There was a second of silence before a sniffing sound came from the corner. Rickon rubbed his eyes harshly and Sansa immediately went to his side to comfort him.

“What’s wrong, sweetling?” she cooed.

“It’s just… this place reminds me of Winterfell.” he was looking at his feet, ashamed of tearing up before tentatively looking up. “I couldn’t remember much of it but I’ve been getting small flashbacks in the castle. I feel closer to the North here.”

“You heard him,” Robb campaigned, even more decided on this now that his baby brother has given such a heart wrenching confession. “This place was shown to Bran for a reason. We are meant to stay here, keep this last piece of the North and the Old Gods safe. This could be our new Winterfell. A home for all of us.”

And so they decided to buy a broken castle.

~#~

Robb placed some feelers out there and found out that it would be sold for 495, 000€. Not bad overall.

After a bit of negotiations and proving that _yes, he, a twenty year old, is serious about buying a castle,_ they ended up buying it for 490, 000€. A real bargain considering it came with 3.8 acres of land.

Sansa snuck into Diagon Alley with Rickon, and Arya so that they could go to Gringotts and take her money from her personal allowance vault and put it in a separate one from the Black family vault so that nobody in her family can close the vault and leave her with nothing when they inevitably found out that she was consorting with muggles. Robb convinced her to place it all in a muggle bank, that way they will have no idea how to find it. She also took as much as her father had agreed with the goblins that she was allowed to take from the family vault in case of emergency. He probably will regret that when he finds out what she plans to do with it.

Arya and Rickon’s faces when they saw the goblins made her stifle a laugh behind her hand. She couldn’t help but show off a little of the magic world when she invited them on the ride to her vault.

They didn’t disappoint. Rickon and Arya absolutely loved the rush of danger felt when riding the old carts. They tried to keep track of the twist and turns outloud to the irritation of Hodrod, the goblin in charge of all the Black’s many vaults.

Vault 708 was the first one they went to, her personal vault.

Father had given it to her so that he could see how she managed the money of one vault. Every semester, he gave her a large allowance to see how she would spend it. He stopped with Sirius after his first semester when he proved himself untrustworthy when he blew his first allowance on some of the best brooms one can have for himself and his friends. 

She hadn’t touched it except for small things like some clothes and potion ingredients she ordered by mail. When her report cards came back with E’s and O’s, he increased her allowance which had left her with quite a lot of galleons in her vault because each semester she made sure to do better than the last. 

As she got older, she proceeded to invest in a few wizarding businesses that she was sure were going to boom such as Twilfitt and Tatting’s, Madam Puddifoot’s (she had been one of the primary investors that helped get it started, which while not really her style, she knew it would be popular with students), Honeydukes as well as a new clothing store in France that she had gone to during the summer of her fifth year and had fallen in love with.

All very profitable business, she had impressed her father just like she had intended to. He had said then _continue this way, and you’ll be the Black heiress before you graduate._ She felt guilty for it now but back then, nothing would have made her more proud even if it meant displacing her older brother. He didn’t care about the family after all, not like she did. The only reason he hasn’t been disowned yet is because there is no second son to replace him. Just a daughter. She wanted to prove that she, just as she is, would be the best leader for her generation of the Black family.

Now she was throwing all her efforts away. She shook her head in amusement. _Life is funny sometimes._

“Bloody hell! That’s a buttload of gold!” Rickon exclaimed.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Sansa couldn’t help but smile. She had been the one to make her allowance five times what it had originally been all by herself. “Hodrod, I’m taking out everything in this account and please convert all the money in here into muggle money.”

“All of it,” Hodrod exclaimed in shock.

“Yes,” she smiled proudly. “All of it.”

~#~

Two weeks passed by before she was forced to consider going back to Hogwarts. 

She didn’t want to go back. Like most slytherins, she hates it there. People call her a deatheather because of the house she’s in and have this holier-than-thou attitude around her. She remembered once in her third year, three sixth year gryffindor boys started insulting her to her face. They circled her like hyenas and it had been very… intimidating. But nobody in the hallway had done anything because she’s a daughter from the house of Black and a Slytherin. 

The pureblood supremacists in her house often attempt to pressure her into joining their ranks so she’s always on her toes with these people she shares a dorm with. It’s not like she can offend them, who knows what they might do to her in her sleep. 

So it’s always politics, politics, politics!

Sansa is good at politics. She’s learned from the best, she needed to to survive. She’s good at politics but she doesn’t like it.

Hogwarts felt like King’s Landing to her. Always needing to be on her guard in case someone takes something the wrong way. Knowing authority figures will not take her side in conflicts. She always has to choose her words carefully and it’s exhausting, honestly. 

It was King’s Landing all over again, except, this time, she couldn’t dream of a better home to return to when she got out. All she had was Grimmauld Place.

Then she arrived here, in Robb’s apartment, and she finally felt that. Safe.

When she arrived, she imagined staying for two, three days and then going back, no harm no foul. But it had been such a breath of fresh air that she kept putting off going back. Then they bought a castle, and she started considering not returning. At all. Sansa reasoned that she could send Sirius a letter once he was away from Hogwarts in the summer. She already took all her money out. She could live off that for a while.

But that’s was all a foolish, stupid dream of a foolish, stupid girl who should know better by now.

Rickon, a young muggle raised wizard had no idea how to control his accidental magic. He has just started learning magic after all. 

It was a recipe for disaster.

She really should have not been surprised when he came to her, panicking that he brought to life animal statues in a public park.

To clarify, after witnessing two grown men kicking a dog repeatedly, he got upset and went over there to defend the pup. The men laughed him off and that’s when his accidental magic showed itself. The living statues chased the animal abusers away.

He got out of there before the obliviators arrived but it showed her that they needed to return to Hogwarts if not so that she won’t become a drop out then because Rickon needs it. 

At least for his first year. Bran got homeschooled after all and he turned out fine. He could refer them to his teachers once he tells his grandmother where he is.

With a heavy heart, she announced to her family that it’s time for them to go back to Hogwarts.

She hugged her siblings goodbye and Robb, predictably had the hardest time with goodbye, he held on tightly as if to let go would be the greatest crime he’d ever commit. She told herself once more that she would see them soon enough, if not on Hogsmeade trips then on the winter holidays.

A year and a half, that’s how long she has left at Hogwarts. Then she’ll be an adult and she can come home.

Her eyes met Jon’s over her brother’s shoulder.

The look inside her cousin’s grey gaze made her choke up and look away. _Maybe in this life… this time… he’ll fight for us._ She shook her head free of those foolish ideas.

 _Don’t give me hope,_ she pleaded internally. _Jon, you’ve done it once, don’t do it again._

But another voice yelled louder. 

_Don’t let our chance, our time, pass by once more, coward!_

_I don’t want to look back in regret of what we missed out on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to make this a series with one shots showing Sansa’s life after Hogwarts. I’ve already starting writing it. There might be an actual sequel in the works though so keep an eye out.


End file.
